


devotion will never not sound desperate

by seroquel (smallredboy)



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drugged Sex, Hazing, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inferiority Complex, King!House, Knight!Chase, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Vague setting, not between house/chase
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 18:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20344699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallredboy/pseuds/seroquel
Summary: Chase pulls through for the King.





	devotion will never not sound desperate

**Author's Note:**

> the setting is very vague but i pictured it as some 1890s steampunk-ish thing in victorian england? i don't know either. minus homophobia. i'm just having fun with this and also injecting trauma into everything i write.
> 
> for trope-bingo with the square "au: royalty", for hc-bingo with the square "hazing/bullying", and also for a prompt on tumblr.
> 
> enjoy!

Chase doesn’t fight it only because of the King.

The knights around him are terribly loud, but he manages. The knights around him are drinking and he remembers his late mother, God bless her heart, but he manages. The knights around him disparage everything they should stand for— courage, change, respect— but he manages. As he’s isolated from the rest, because he is new, because he is not from there (even if he is from the Empire, thank you very much).

“Oh, we need to pull up the Chinese’s favorite,” one of the knights, Alexander or something of that effect, says, smirking to himself.

Chase’s face twists. “Is that opium?” he asks carefully.

Another man, larger than him, laughs heartily. “Is it opium?” he mocks, imitating him, raising his voice a few octaves. “Of course it’s opium. And you’re going to get high off it.”

“I’ve never—”

“Oh, too bad, little guy,” he says, elbowing him. “You’re gonna get high off opium and we’ll watch ya be a fuckin’ mess. Otherwise, we’re going to make your life serving the House utter fucking Hell. You got me?”

He has to do this, he thinks. For the King.

He swallows and looks at the pipe carefully. “F-fine, but—”

Before he can protest any longer, there is a pipe shoved into his mouth.

The next few hours are a blur. He knows he trips and falls multiple times, he knows that they laugh, he knows that there’s mutters and light talk and something or other about one specific sin. Then, he can’t quite make out why, but his sides ache. Everything aches, really, especially under his hips. His lower body feels like it’s been made into batter and he’s sick to his stomach the morning after, in the knights’ quarters.

He has his first meeting with the King today. He straightens up, gets dressed quick enough even as his head thumps. He hasn’t exactly responded well to the opium and whatever happened, his body feeling like it’s filled to the brim with lead, all the machines inside him no longer operational by some sick joke of the universe.

The machines across the halls work just fine, though. There’s the soft thrum of steam working its magic as he makes his way down the beautiful hall, towards the throne room. He swallows thickly, nerves spreading through him. He can still see his bruises even when he’s clothed. Will the King notice? Will the King care? He knows he won’t. He has millions of subjects, all across the globe, he is just one closer to his leader. He doesn’t deserve the attention, but he still has a meeting with him. Because he’s a new knight.

He looks at the woman guarding the door, black hair down to her shoulders, a little curly. “Hello, Madam Cuddy— I have a, uh, session with the King today. May I pass?”

She tilts her head at him, looking a tad worried. “You look different, Knight Chase.”

They’ve only talked once or twice, so the fact she notices is strange. He swallows thickly. “Yeah. Learned about my fellow knights, Madam. May I pass?”

She nods curtly and retrieves her sword from the door before starting to pull it open. It’s massive, bigger than both of them combined, but it still opens to Cuddy’s work of her hands on the rope.

And the King is there, waiting, a hand on the armrest of his throne. He looks incredible, that he does— he is quite good-looking, all things considered. Rugged, bearded, eyes icy and ruthless. This man could end him, this man could be the end of him. 

Chase draws in a breath and starts to walk towards him, trying to control his nerves. His bruises itch and his whole body aches. One of the knights from last night is guarding, and he snickers a little when he sees him, his smile like a rotten canvas in his awful face. He can’t help but try and seem smaller, less threatening, a bird of prey. He is prey, after all, the memories blurry but still there, alive, a knife to the throat.

“Your Majesty,” he says, bowing before taking a knee, looking up at the King. “How can I be of service today?”

King House looks over him. “I was going to give you a proper greeting, Knight Chase, but I do notice the bruises on you. Do you wish to speak of it?”

Chase sucks in a breath, his heartbeat picking up. “...Not necessarily, Your Majesty,” he says heavily.

King House’s face softens just a little, almost imperceptible except for his eyes warming up, that cold blue stare becoming lukewarm. “Knights, please retire to your chambers.”

“But King—” the one who had touched Chase speaks, eyes wide. 

“Now,” he hisses out.

The knight walks away quickly, giving Chase a look full of hatred that makes his insides cold as ice.

“What did they do to you?” the King asks, quickly standing and starting to go towards him. He grabs his wrist gently, holds it up against his palm. It’s far too caring for the King himself, his slight limp obvious if he squints. “I know of the initiation ceremonies, but I have never seen a knight come here with this many bruises.”

Chase looks away from him, drawing in a breath. “It does not matter, Your Majesty.” The touch sets his body aflame but he also does not want any more of it, his hairs on end from the touch. Like it will be more— but he knows it can never be more with the King. His Prince Consort would not be too happy about it, perhaps. 

“It does,” he insists. “Tell me about it. If it was something -” he swallows, looks infinitely protective in a way Chase can’t begin to understand, “ _ worse _ than the typical initiation, I have to do something about it.”

And Chase can’t speak of it, can’t even begin to think of speaking about it. He draws in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

“Take your time, knight,” he says. “Do you want to sit down?”

“I would like to, Your Majesty,” he says heavily. 

And- the King is a lot kinder than he thought he’d be. He leads him to a comfortable seat, lets him calm down, a hand still on his wrist, going up to his hand, grabbing ever so gently, ever so carefully. Like he’s worth something, like he’s more than an ant at his feet. 

He squeezes the King’s hand right back, tears threatening to spill through every passing minute.

“You can count on me to bring them Hell if you so wish, knight,” he tells him. “I know you are better than them.”

“You’ve had me as a a knight for a day, Your Majesty,” he replies.

“I know who you are, knight,” he shoots back. “I know you, which is why I picked you. And I know you are worthy of your title— more than most of the others are.”

He wants to argue for a second, but he bites his tongue. He’s inferior, he knows. But he didn’t know he’d be ever considered superior— to anyone, especially after the events of the night beforehand. But as the King leans in and holds his hand as he speaks, he thinks he could live with the notion.

“Would you like for a doctor to see you, knight?” he asks.

He swallows, hesitates. “Will it be private?”

King House smiles as him. “As private as it can be, knight.”

He nods a little. “Then yes, Your Majesty.”

The King squeezes his hand, and he knows he can live with his initiation ceremony, as long as he has his devotion for his King. As long as he has his devotion, it will all be fine. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, The Prince Consort Is Wilson.
> 
> please check out [my writing sideblog](https://smallredb0y.tumblr.com) on tumblr!
> 
> thank you for reading!!


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